


Five Times Paris and Chakotay Wound Up Together and One Time They Remembered It

by Little_Miss_Numbers



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: 5 Times, Alternate Timelines, Angst, Canonical Character Death, Episode Related, Episode Retelling, Happy Ending, M/M, no one important stays dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 09:05:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1739042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Miss_Numbers/pseuds/Little_Miss_Numbers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times the universe reset itself or otherwise conspired to keep Paris and Chakotay from remembering what happened between them, and one time it didn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Time and Again

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a joke about how Voyager has a bad habit of doing episodes that nobody remembers at the end, and none of the character development actually happened. But then I went and actually wrote it. 
> 
> I chose five episodes that did this, and wrote a little slash story for each one. I've named each chapter after the episode it's based off, to make it easier to look up. Fair warning, I'm not sure this makes any sense if you haven't seen the episode based on it, the episodes in order are,
> 
> -Time and Again  
> -Deadlock  
> -Year of Hell  
> -The Killing Game  
> -Course Oblivion
> 
> Also fair warning, they do die a few times in this, but I promise there's a happy ending.

Voyager was barely a few weeks into her mission home in the Delta Quadrant and Paris, having just finished his shift, was already trying to talk the young Ensign Kim into a double date with the Delaney sisters. If Chakotay thought that he'd actually changed since their Maquis days, this was fairly indicative that he was wrong. And maybe, he thought with a twinge of disappointment, that moment back on the Occampa home world really was just a fluke. 

The ship shook. "Captain to the bridge." Chakotay hailed Janeway the same time Commander Tuvok announced odd sensor readings.

The planet was dead when they arrived. Ensign Kim said that the lack of life signs could be from radiation blocking the censors, but everyone knew, even as he said it that there was no way anyone had survived that. Something Kes, with her strange mental abilities quickly confirmed.

Janeway took an away team, including Paris, and beamed down. And Chakotay didn't think anything of it until he got a message from the away team not long after that told him something had happened to Paris and Janeway. And if Chakotay didn't care, why was his first thought ' _Why did it have to be Tom? _"__

__

__Paris wasn't shallow. Not really. But it served his purposes to be seen that way. To argue just quietly enough to Kim about trying to date a pair of twins that when everyone overheard they didn't realise it was on purpose. Especially with Commander Chakotay sitting so close. He had a lot of damage control to do still after the incident on the Occompan homeworld._ _

__But then somehow he had accidentally slipped back in time with Janeway to before the big explosion, with the lives of an entire planet at stake, how could he possibly keep quiet and pretend to be blasé about the whole thing? Even if Janeway was already starting to see through his cracks. But things weren't working, and it was starting to sink in that everyone here was still going to die._ _

__It was seeing the kids playing, Paris told himself. What was it about kids in danger that struck you right to your core? Even ones as annoying and getting in the way of their mission as that blond kid, Latika, he found out his name was. But even if the kid annoyed him It didn't mean he was happy to see him grabbed too after following them around when he and Janeway were arrested for trying for trying to get the power planet in an effort to sneak home. And all Paris could think when he looked at that kid was a future that would was never going to happen. And a whole planet of kids just like him that were going to die before they even had a chance._ _

__"Chakotay to Janeway."_ _

__Paris' heart leapt in a way he never would have expected. Even if the local officials were way too quick to take both combadges before they could answer. Somehow it made him feel a bit better to know Chakotay was working to save them._ _

__

__"Nothing." Said Torres when the device to retrieve them gave out. "They must not be there."_ _

__Chakotay clenched his jaw. They could be anywhere in the planet's history. They could even be moments before the explosion itself. Tom saved his life, a mere few weeks ago. He had to do the same. "Let's keep trying. Where else could they be?"_ _

__

__It was that damn kid again. Paris didn't even care that he was probably less than an hour away from death anyways. He jumped on instinct. You don't let people shoot kids. You can't. But they also didn't have projectile weapons back home. It felt so strange, feeling the led pierce his stomach. It didn't even hurt. At least not at first. He mostly just felt...numb._ _

__Eventually Janeway left him to go save the power plant, hopefully stop the explosion. And it was just him bleeding out with Latika. The kid for his part was staring at him with watering eyes. "What do I do?" He asked._ _

__Paris thought back to his medical training. There wasn't much in there about projectile weapons, no one used projectile weapons anymore , but he still had a pretty good idea. "We need to stop the bleeding." he said, and his voice sounded weak. He took off his jacket and put it over the wound. "Press down as hard as you can." He told Latika. "So I...don't bleed out."_ _

__The kid did as he was told. "Now what?"_ _

__"Now we hope help arrives on time." He would probably need surgery. Depending on where the bullet hit. And to get all the wounds closed with a regenerator. Though in a culture this primitive they might even end up stitching him back together...if they made it to him at all. He tried not to think about it. "So kid. You write for the school paper, huh?"_ _

__But Latika wasn't interested in his questions. "Is that lady your girlfriend? She shouldn't have just left you like that."_ _

__Paris shook his head. "She's my captain." The kid looked blank. "It's a military rank. We're soldiers. And she has to complete the mission, and hopefully save you guys."_ _

__"Oh." He went quiet for a little bit after that though Paris wished he would talk. He was starting to feel woozy, and would rather have something to focus on that wasn't his injuries. "Are you married?" asked the kid after a while._ _

__"No." Said Paris. He almost laughed, but even the idea hurt too much. "I'm not really the marrying type."_ _

__"You don't have anyone? Not even a girlfriend?" For a moment Paris considered telling the kid about the Delaney sisters. But there's something about laying there bleeding out with a kid who'll probably be dead with you in a mere few minutes that makes it hard to lie._ _

__"Alright, maybe there's someone I have my eye on." He never would have admitted it, even to himself, under any other circumstances. But Paris had been carrying a torch for Chakotay since his Maquis days. "But it's never going to happen. He doesn't even like me."_ _

__Latika frowned. "That sounds stupid. How do you know if you don't even try?"_ _

__Out of the mouth of babes, Paris thought. "Tell you what, if I get out of this..." His head started swimming again. He wasn't going to last much longer. "I'll tell him, alright?"_ _

__He knew he was fading fast, and the last thing he saw before he lost consciousness was Latika's eyes shining brightly as he pressed down on his stomach._ _

__

__They were in the room where the flashpoint happened. And Chakotay knew this was their last hope if he ever wanted to see Paris again. The bastard would die when Chakotay owed him his life, wouldn't he? He thought bitterly. As though Paris did all of this on purpose. But it wasn't just that. Chakotay had to admit that there was something about Paris that got under his skin, and not entirely in an unpleasant way. I'll tell him. He promised himself almost as if he was appealing to a higher power, as they prepared their last attempt. Just let me have him back, and I'll tell him. And let the pieces land where they may._ _

__The attempt to find them failed, Paris bled out and then the timeline shuddered and Paris was on the bridge trying to talk Kim into a double date with the Delaney sisters while Chakotay gritted his teeth and tried to ignore it. And it was just as though it had never happened, because technically it never did._ _


	2. Deadlock

Chakotay was furious. He understood that Paris was under orders to act up. He understood that it was Janeway's decision, not his, to leave Chakotay in the dark. But it was Paris who went on A Briefing With Neelix at the end of it and played it all off like it was all a joke. With no personal apology to him at all.

"I really don't see what the big deal is," said Torres over breakfast when Chakotay had brought it up to her. "So he enjoyed screwing with you. It's Paris. Are you surprised?"

"It's the principle of the thing," he explained. "It's disrespectful."

"Well then maybe you should talk to him," suggested Torres with a shrug.

 

When Chakotay got the bridge, everyone was buzzing over Ensigh Wildman's labour. And he had to admit that the optimistic mood was infectious. Still once they'd navigated around Vidian space, and there was nothing going on, Chakotay called Paris to his office for a few words.

"Sit down," he said, offering a seat and taking the one across from it for himself.

He was expecting the usual attitude, but now that his mission was over, he sat down politely and waited patiently for Chakotay to tell him why he was here. 

"We need to talk," said Chakotay. 

"I know," said Paris. "This is about the whole Jonas incident, isn't it?"

"Actually I was more thinking about what happened after that. Particularly when you were on a Briefing with Neelix." 

Paris smirked. "I got under your skin a bit, did I?" 

"Lieutenant..." Chakotay warned. 

But Paris leaned forward, not taking his eyes of Chakotay's and said in a low voice, "Because you get under mine."

Chakotay's eyes widened a fraction of an inch. "Tom..."

"Alright, you want less smart ass, more honesty. I didn't think I was coming back from that mission. And I thought the last time we interacted was going to be me pushing you down on the bridge. And the last thing I was going to hear was Seska going on about you like you were her property."

Chakotay was aware that Paris was close to him now. So close he could feel the air against his lips when Paris exhaled through his nose. And he was surprised how badly he wanted to close what was left of that gap. But first he needed to know, "How long?"

"I don't really know. Since you rescued me from that bar in Marseilles, I guess." 

Chakotay didn't like that image at all, as he leaned and pressed his lips against Paris'. No Tom's. Thinking of Tom as nothing more than a sarcastic drunk, he opened his mouth. Thinking of Tom as immature, chasing vapid skirts instead of looking for something more adult, he deepened the kiss. Thinking of Tom being sarcastic, acting up. Then thinking of him saving his life on Occampa, he realised he had been forgetting to breathe. Thinking of Tom going on dangerous away missions for the sake of duty. Or for Janeway. Or for him. Thinking of whatever hidden depths he might uncover, Chakotay finally just lost himself to the kiss.

 

The Vidians seemed to come out of nowhere. And before they could stop them they disabled the ship and boarded. Chakotay grabbed Tom's arm before he left the bridge to go help efforts to resecure the ship. It was stupid, every moment counted, but they had just found each other. 

Tom seemed to know what he was thinking without him saying a thing. "I know," he said. And quickly touched their lips together one last time. Somehow they both knew they wouldn't survive this one. And then Tom was gone.

Tom was killed by a Vidian as he raced to engineering. While Chakotay sat on the bridge beside Captain Janeway as she initiated the self destruct. And he was still there when the Vidians finally broke onto the bridge and the self destruct sequence hit zero.

 

In a phase shift just outside of their own, Chakotay watched as his ship exploded. "The other Voyager is gone, Captain." He told Janeway dispationately. Though calm outside, he knew this was one that would be haunting them for a long time to come yet. Just this morning he had been ready to give Paris a piece of his mind. Now looking at him, just as exhausted and disturbed as he was, suddenly it just didn't seem important anymore.


	3. Year of Hell

When Paris first saw Chakotay after being brought to Annorax's quarters, his first thought was that Chakotay looked like an entirely different person than the one he'd been serving with when they'd been taken. Though maybe that was partly time as well. But he was shaved, clean and wearing fresh clothes. He looked like a new man. And judging by the way Chakotay was looking at him, he seemed to be thinking something similar. And then a moment of guilt when Paris remembered the state he left Voyager in. That was two months ago. Were they even still alive?

"Are you alright?" Paris asked Chakotay. He looked it, but appearances aren't always to be trusted.

Chakotay nodded, and Paris relaxed a bit and sat down. And then spent a meal becoming increasingly more and more horrified as Annorax explained himself and what he was doing. When he told Paris he was eating the last remnants of the Alsuran empire, he thought he was going to throw up.

But when he tried to leave in disgust, he didn't care where it took him, he'd rather die then abet genocide, Chakotay stayed sitting. In fact, he ordered Paris to stay too.

Later on, when Paris was alone, having disobeyed a direct order, and taken to guest quarters, he assumed it was Chakotay's willingness to cooperate that saved his life. And of course it was. But it didn't make the entire incident sit any better with him. Even if Chakotay had asked if there was a way to do it without hurting anyone. The whole thing felt naive at best, and intellectually dishonest at worst. 

 

When Chakotay joined him a few hours later he looked as furious as Paris felt.

"You disobeyed a direct order, Lieutenant."

"Did you hear him in there? The man is a psycho." answered Paris hotly. 

"If you'd stayed and listened, you would know that he regrets what he had to do," said Chakotay. "Look, I can help him. We can figure out a solution that works for both of us without killing anymore people. Isn't it better that I help him then just condemn him outright?"

"I think he's well past the point where he can be helped," sniped Paris.

"Then just stay out of the way, Lieutenant. And that is a direct order," answered Chakotay coldly. 

"Yes, sir." Said Paris. "Now if you don't mind, _Commander_ , I think I'd rather stay out of the way alone in my room." He turned heel and walked off. Without even bothering to look back at Chakotay to see his reaction.

 

Things cooled off somewhat over the next few days. Though both were too certain the other was wrong to make it past overly formal small talk. Paris suspected they both felt a bit betrayed by the other. But interactions were kept short, usually just over meals, and Paris was always too disturbed by the possibility that he might be finishing off the last of some erased civilization to be able to focus too much energy on fixing things with Chakotay. 

After a while, feeling too confined in his quarters, he started exploring the ship. There were a few restricted areas, but otherwise he was free to go where he wanted. And it was a very large ship. Much bigger than Voyager. Filled with so many displays and artifacts, that it felt more like a museum than it did a military ship. And Paris would spend hours looking through various rooms and imagining what sort of people created all these fascinating things. And wishing he wasn't fighting with Chakotay, because always the anthropologist, he knew he'd be able to tell him so much more about them than Paris could ever hope to figure out on his own.

He had been looking at what he guessed were some sort of fertility statues, and wondering what Chakotay's thoughts would be if he was with him, when someone walked up behind him. "Those are from the Ulipetes Confederacy." Paris turned around to see a young Kremin male looking at the objects in front him with sad eyes. "Annorax wiped them out so that the Kremin empire could expand unheeded into the Oharee nebula."

"I'm sorry, but who are you?" asked Paris.

"My name is Obrist. I'm Annorax's second in command," he said with a friendly smile.

"No offense, but you're working for a maniac." 

It was more confrontational than he needed to be, but Paris really wanted to yell at someone and since it couldn't be Chakotay, Annorax's second seemed like as good a target as any.

But Obrist just sighed. "He wasn't always," he said. "Or he used to hide it better. Thinking back sometimes, I'm not always sure which. Your friend seems quite taken with him, you know."

"I've noticed," said Paris, then, feeling a need to defend Chakotay, even if he secretly agreed added. "He thinks he can help solve this without killing anymore people."

"Then your friend is a fool," said Obrist simply. "Come, let me show you the room with the Ja-Ho. They made beautiful pottery," he said walking past him to a room further down the corridor.

 

After that Paris started spending more time around Obrist. If Chakotay was going to insist on playing God then Paris should really be trying to find an alternative way out of this for when Chakotay finally came to his senses. Besides, if he was just collecting information, he wasn't disobeying any orders. Keeping your eyes and ears open isn't getting in the way.

 

Obrist wasn't what he expected either. He still wasn't sure he trusted him, but any edge he might have had at one time had long since given way to exaspiration and simple tiredness. Obrist missed his family, his life, and after 200 years of following Annarax, just wanted to get off this ship. 

"Did you know that you and your friend are the first new people I've met in over fifty years?" said Obrist one day over some game of chance from some wiped out Paris had forgotten the name of. "Frankly your friend isn't any different than the others Annorax has brought on board. They're always taken in by Annorax's sob stories, or maybe the power goes to their head."

"What usually happens to people he brings on?"

Obrist shrugged. "They complete their mission, and Annorax lets them go. Or sometimes they don't, and Annorax cuts them loose anyways. Either way they don't come on that often." and then Obrist suddenly took on a different mood entirely. "You know, I'm getting a little tired of talking about Annorax all the time." He moved his hand so it was covering Paris' and looked up. "There are so many more interesting topics."

Paris was so startled he almost laughed. Though he managed to hide it by slowly expelling the air instead. "You have no idea how tempted I am." 

"If there's someone else back on your ship--well you could be here a pretty long time." It was true it had already been 4 months since they'd been kidnapped. 

"Yeah, but he's not back on back on my ship." 

Obrist looked genuinely surprised.

"I know," said Paris. "He's a dolt, but he's my dolt, you know? Besides, he saved my life once. I was in a pretty bad way when we met."

"This figures," said Obrist, exasperated, keeping his gaze determinedly on the ceiling. "Well, I guess there's nothing else to do but you get off this ship then."

 

It was still a long time before Paris got Chakotay to listen to him. And took witnessing Annorax at his worse, and still Paris had to talk him into it. Paris never even tried to broach the subject of his personal feelings. Partly it was habit by this point, but mostly as much as Paris knew he still loved him, he was too put off by the whole situation. Once we're out of it, he told himself. Get some distance from all of this, then he'd have lots of time to have a real conversation with Chakotay.

Then everything started happening and Obrist beamed them out of the way to the safety of Tuvok's ship and they were ushered somewhere to wait out the battle.

"Do you think they'll succeed?" Chakotay asked, obviously not enjoying being shoved off to the side during such a tense battle.

"I hope so," said Paris. "An abomination like that should be stopped."

Chakotay looked away, a guilty look in his eyes. "I can't imagine what you think of me, being taken in by him for so long."

Paris shook his head, and his eyes looked kind. "He took in a lot of people, not just you," he said.

"Not you," Chakotay pointed out.

Paris' lips turned upwards, and Chakotay recognized the playful look he'd get when he teased someone, "You're saying your a bad judge of character?"

Chakotay's face hardened, "I'm not--" he started.

"Maybe there's something to that." Paris interrupted. "Annorax, Seska, Tuvok, Jonas," Paris closed the distance between them as he spoke, taking another step after each name, "Me," He whispered, now so close he could hiss the word into Chakotay's ear. Then he kissed his earlob. 

Chakotay pulled back, then looked up at Paris, a torn look on his face. Like he wanted to argue, but there was something stopping him. Finally he said, "You always did know how to get under my skin, didn't you." He leaned in and kissed a very smug looking Paris deeply on the mouth. 

Then the world went white and a whole year reset itself.

 

Chakotay was sitting beside Janeway, mostly checking the ship was running up to speed and looking through a few routine checks, when an alien vessel hailed them. 

"You've entered Kremin space. State your identity." Said the alien. He looked military, Chakotay thought. 

"Captain Janeway of the Starship Voyager. We're just passing through, trying to get home," explained Janeway. 

"This region is in dispute. I suggest you avoid our territory."

Janeway nodded and thanked him for the warning. And the Kremin alien signed off.

"Tom, plot a course around Kremin space," Chakotay ordered.

"Aye sir," answered Paris entering the course correction into his station, and Voyager flew off without incident.


	4. The Killing Game

In a small French bordertown recently secured by the allies, a small army truck transported fresh troops to their new assignments. Including a new first lieutenant for the captain posted there.

When Lieutenant Davis met Captain Miller, he immediately suspected he might be like him. The signs were there: a bit too clean for an experienced soldier like him. Still keeping his uniform nicely pressed, and his hair neatly combed long after anyone cared about that kind of thing. 

"So you're my new lieutenant?" Captain Miller, getting up from behind his desk, went to greet Davis who was still standing at the entrance of his tent.

Miller looked him up and down. "You come highly recommended, but I've been warned you have a reckless streak," Miller continued apparently satisfied with what he saw. "Try that with me and I'll bust you back down to private so fast your head will spin. You understand me? I don't want heroes. I'd rather get as many of my men home alive as possible."

"Understood, sir," answered Davis with deference.

Miller seemed satisfied. "At ease lieutenant. I expect strict discipline from most of my men, but I'd rather a lieutenant who spoke his mind." 

Davis relaxed his stance. "Understood, sir," he repeated. "May I ask a question, sir?"

"Yes?"

"If it's not too personal, are you Indian? I was just wondering, I met some rather impressive codebreakers and wondered if you had anything to do with that."

"I'm not a Navajo codebreaker. I'm Indo-Hispanic. And I'd rather leave it there if that's alright with you," answered Miller rather shortly. "And don't try any nicknames either. If you call me Tanto, I'll knock you to the ground."

Davis didn't doubt that he could, and simply nodded. "Yes, sir," he repeated, rather impressed. Then added for good measure, "Sorry, sir, I was just curious."

The sentiment seemed to disarm Miller again, and Davis relaxed a bit. "It's alright, Lieutenant," said Miller. "Now you know." He turned around and returned to his work. "Dismissed."

 

The unit was a few kilometres behind the front lines at the time, preparing for an offensive in Sainte Claire. Though at the moment nobody was worrying about that. It was late evening, and most of the unit were hanging out at a local pub watching a pretty French lounge singer put on a show for the troops. 

Miller was there, Davis noticed him the moment he walked in. He was sitting alone at a table, having a cigarette, and more interested in looking over some maps he brought with him than he was in the show in front of him, Davis noted. 

"You know, Captain, some people actually take a break sometimes," he said, taking the seat across from Miller and taking a sip of his scotch.

"Davis." said Miller as way of a greeting, before turning his attention back to his maps. "Colonel Matthews told me I needed to get out more." 

Davis laughed. "I don't think this is what he had in mind. Why don't you put the work away and leave it for the morning?" he suggested.

"And spend the evening gawking and hooting at some poor girl with the rest of my unit, I suppose?" asked Miller with a raised eyebrow.

"Or, you could just try some pleasant conversation with your first lieutenant," said Davis easily. He was considering how to flirt without it being obvious enough that he could plausibly deny the whole thing in case they were overheard. Or even worse, in case he'd misjudged Miller. He also considered the fact that all he was really after was maybe a quick screw somewhere discreet, but there was something about Miller that he found strangely pulling, odd for someone he'd known such a short time. If he wasn't careful, he could fall for this one.

Miller considered his offer, and to Davis' delight, he did at least put the maps away. "So tell me," said Davis, if he was wrong, best find out now, "Do you have a girl back home waiting for you?"

"You really are a nosey son of a bitch, you know that, Davis?" 

Davis smiled. "So I'm told," he said. "I'm guessing the answer is no. Don't worry," he added giving Miller a significant look, "I don't either."

Miller's eyes widened just a fraction of an inch. And with a flip of his stomach, Davis noticed a hint of red start to creep up Miller's neck. "Listen, Lieutenant..." he coughed awkwardly. 

Davis couldn't help but find it endearing the way he came undone so easily when he noticed someone was flirting with him. "We're off duty. You can call me Bobby."

"Do you know how much trouble we could get into?" Miller hissed.

Davis met Miller's eyes, a serious expression on his face now. "I'm not asking for anything you don't want to give," he said. "If you want, you can turn around right now and walk out that door, and we'll pretend this whole conversation never happened. But if you want, you can stay here, finish your cigarette, and have a nice evening talking to someone who understands you."

For a long moment, Davis thought Miller might take him up on his offer, but then he leaned back and took another puff of his cigarette. "So tell me Bobby, where do you call home?"

 

Hours later, the two of them found themselves stumbling out of the bar, neither one was quite sure who was holding up the other, but somehow they seemed to be moving forward, so they must be doing something right. Both were laughing, and Miller was trying to remember some song he'd heard in a British pub when he'd been stationed there for a few weeks earlier in the war.

Eventually they managed to find the Captain's room. "Stay," said Miller, grabbing Davis' collar and pulling him towards him and, smiling strongly like scotch, planting a sloppy kiss on his lips.

"You're drunk." answered Davis when he was free again. 

"So are you. What's your point?" asked Miller leaning in again. 

"So, let's wait till we're sober, and if you're still interested we'll do it then. Besides, how will it look if your first lieutenant is found in your room tomorrow morning?"

"Sneak out early." suggested Miller. He had started to kiss the base of his jaw, and Davis thought if he didn't leave soon he wouldn't be able to leave at all.

"And I am way too drunk to have the patience to keep an inebriated man interested," he said, extricating himself from Miller and gently directing him to his bed. "And you're even further gone than I am. I can't believe I have a commanding officer who can't hold his liquor."

"That's no way to talk to a superior, Lieutenant," said Miller as Davis helped him out of his boots and laid him in bed. 

"Well if you still remember this tomorrow..." Davis started to say but when he glanced back at Miller he was already asleep. "We'll pick it up there." he finished anyways and covered him with a blanket before leaving.

 

As it happened, Davis didn't see Miller the next day until mid afternoon when he had a report to submit. 

"With all due respect, sir, you don't look good," commented Davis as he watched Miller grimace as Davis stepped out of the light and let it flood back into the tent. 

"I don't drink much," said Miller, clutching the bridge of his nose and looking over Davis' report.

"Well make sure you drink lots of water." said Davis. At least that was what he was trying to say, when he was suddenly interrupted by the sound of shells.

In a flash, Miller and Davis were both up and outside. "They're attacking the town!" called Miller, and a moment later he was barking out orders and sending Davis off while he went to organize the rest of the troops.

In the span of a few minutes, the quiet little town they'd been holding was suddenly a war zone. The clear sky now so obscured by smoke, and buildings blowing up beside them as they ran past and tried to get into position.

It was an all out firefight, with bullets flying everywhere and the enemy just around the bend, eager to take the town. Miller and Davis had met up again, they were sharing the same half destroyed brick fence for cover, about 10 feet from the next nearest members of their unit who were using one of the houses in the area that was still standing. And that was when Davis spotted them. About three civilians, two men and a woman huddling in a corner between the crossfire.

A quick glance at Miller revealed that he had seen them too. "Cover me!" he yelled, and before Miller could say anything Davis was out from behind the fence rushing towards the civilians. Miller raised his gun and started firing past Davis, hoping to keep any Hun away long enough for Davis to get them back to safety. 

To Miller's relief, Davis did manage to get the civilians behind the lines to somewhere safe, and then, a mere five feet from Miller's position, something exploded behind him and he was knocked down. There was a terrifying moment where Miller didn't movie, that Davis thought he might have been killed. But then he saw him shift. 

Without even thinking, Davis shot off the last of his own round at the Huns lines from his new position across the way and as quickly as he could, he rushed back across to grab Miller.

"Lieutenant, what did I say, about heroics?" Miller gritted through a clenched jaw as Davis pulled his arm over his shoulder and dragged him back towards proper cover nearby. 

"You'll just have to court martial me when we're safe." answered Davis without missing a beat and pulling him back to the safety of their little stone fence. They were almost to safety, and Davis was just pulling Miller around the hidden side of the fence when he was suddenly hit with an intense feeling of Deja Vu. Though he quickly shook it off, he had more important things to be worrying about.

When he had Miller sitting with his back against the fence, Davis started checking his vital, seeing if he was in shock, checking for any bleeding. "I think you're OK." He said after a while. "Everything looks superficial. How's your head?" he asked, checking his pupils.

"Since when do you have field medic training?" asked Miller and the question stopped Davis cold.

It had felt so natural though, it was like running on instinct. He just knew what he was doing, and looking for. Now, thinking back, he couldn't even repeat what he'd done. But before he could say anything another explosion nearby made him press himself against the wall for cover, against Miller. 

Miller reached over and held him close in a protective gesture. And it took them both a few minutes to realise neither of them were hurt. They could hear the war still happening all around them, and now that they'd used up all their ammunition saving those civilians, there wasn't anything they could do but huddle into the deepest corner of the stone fence and wait for the battle to end.

"You know what's strange?" said Miller "From the moment we met, I've felt like I know you. Like we were lovers in another life."

Davis looked back at him with his jaw dropped open. But before he could tell him about his own Deja Vu, Miller was kissing him again. This wasn't like last night, now they were sober, particularly so, and Miller was kissing him intensely, passionately. And more than that, Davis realised, as he felt Miller beginning to unbutton his trousers. 

We shouldn't, he thought. It was too dangerous. Too risky. What if they were seen? What if something happened? If they were found dead like this, and the last thing his mother would hear would be about how her son was an invert. But everything Miller was doing just felt so good, and there was something about having just narrowly survived something, of not knowing if you'll even survive the next half hour that made him not want to lose this chance. 

The pressure built as bullets whizzed past them, off in the far distance Davis could hear another building explode and it was horrible and wonderful at the same time.

 

Eventually the allies did retake the town. And Miller was able to refocus his attention on driving the Germans out of Sainte Claire. They still had contact with the resistance movement there and with any luck it was just a matter of days now. As for him and Davis, things were pretty good. They had to be extremely careful, but neither one was new to this sort of arrangement and while Davis was sure that some of the other officers had noticed that the two were becoming close, he doubted anyone suspected just how close.

Davis had even begun thinking of plans to continue the relationship after the war. He had been right about one thing, despite his original intentions, he'd fallen for this one. Maybe he could transfer, or talk Miller into a job in his home state of Iowa. If they both survived, of course.

All of this lasted until the invasion of Sainte Claire. They got separted right after the first exchange of fire, when Miller went off with their resistance leader and left Davis behind to command the troops. 

When the implants in their heads short circuited, Paris was in a holodeck in a World War II simulation with Torres, Tuvok and Seven, the last thing he remembered was being hit with a phaser by the Hyrogens. 

Chakotay found himself in a corridor wearing ancient earth military clothing with absolutely no idea why he was wearing them or how he could have possibly gotten there.


	5. Course Oblivion

Chakotay woke up before the alarm and for a moment he thought something felt different. There was a weight and a warmth behind him he wasn't used to. He felt something shift and arm come up and wrap itself around Chakotay's chest. 

"Mmmm, good morning," said Paris. The events of last night came flooding in. 

"So it wasn't a dream," said Chakotay, turning around and marvelling at the sight of Tom Paris waking up, dishevelled and glowing in his bed. 

"Any regrets?" asked Paris. 

Chakotay's face broke into a smile, and he leaned in and kissed Paris full on the mouth, just because he could. "Only that we didn't do this sooner."

The computer chimed. "The time is 0600 hours."

"Nooo," moaned Chakotay in Paris' neck.

"The time is 0600 hours and ten seconds." 

"Alright, alright. I'm getting up," Chakotay groaned.

"Relax," said Paris, his hand slowly moving its way down Chakotay's side. "Now we've found each other, we have all the time in the world."

Chakotay kissed Paris one more time before reluctantly separating and getting up so they could get ready for their shift.

 

It was a mostly uneventful day at first. Ensign Harper had her a baby, which was exciting news, and there was a report from engineering about strange readings. But the day quickly turned more stressful when it was discovered that the ship was slowly losing molecular cohesion, likely caused by the new enhanced warp drive. 

The warp drive was shut down and Chakotay took Tuvok to investigate. But even with the warpcore shut off, things were getting worse very quickly and reports had begun to trickle in of crewmen getting ill, possibly related to the warpcore radiation as well. The only thing they could find that seemed unaffected was some food Neelix harvested on a planet they had visited a few months back.

"It would be logical to conclude that this is the result of something that happened previous to Neelix collecting those vegetables," suggested Tuvok. Chakotay nodded and rubbed his temple. He was already an hour past the end of duty shift and now it was looking like he had a long evening pouring over mission logs with Tuvok ahead of him. Right after he cancelled dinner plans with Paris, of course.

"It's alright, I understand," said Paris. "Do what you have to do. They can use my help in sickbay anyways. I'll wait up for you."

"I'll see you tonight," said Chakotay closing the com link. He let out a heavy sigh and followed Tuvok into his office.

It was hours of combing through mission after mission, looking for something, anything that might even begin to explain what was going on. Chakotay was just about to call it a night when Tuvok brought up the logs on the Demon planet. That had been an interesting mission, creating new life. But there was something about that planet that made Chakotay extremely uneasy.

"There's no way. We'd remember," he told Tuvok.

"And yet, it would explain everything that has happened up until this point," Tuvok pointed out in that irritatingly calm way of his. 

"We have to know for certain before we alert the rest of the crew."

 

When Tuvok and Chakotay walked into sickbay, all the beds were filled and even for a hologram the Doctor seemed overworked. 

"Lieutenant Torres just passed away," he told them when he saw them walk in. "I sent Mr Paris back to his quarters an hour ago. There's not much he can do for anyone here at this point, and besides, it's late."

Chakotay stiffled a yawn. Well that was certainly true. "Let's just get this over with," he told Tuvok. He just wanted to put all this behind him for the day and crawl back into Paris' arms. Of all the times for the ship to suddenly find itself in a crisis like this.

The doctor's scans of Torres revealed what they already expected, proven when they saw her revert to her original form right in front of them. It had been hard for Chakotay to watch. Torres wasn't just any crewmember, she was his friend. His close friend. They'd been through so much together. Except had they? How could they have been friends for years when they've only been alive for a year and a half?

"Go get some sleep, Tuvok. I'll inform the Captain."

 

When Chakotay finally made it back to his quarters he was beyond exhausted. Between having his entire world turned upside down, and then Janeway stubbornly refusing to turn the ship around, it took all Chakotay had to not just fall, fully dressed into his bed. 

And then there was the sight that greeted him when he stepped into his quarters, Paris was laying on the couch, sound asleep. A discarded padd on the coffee table beside him and a burned down candle and set places on the table. 

Chakotay didn't wake him, but he did find a blanket in the other room to cover him, and softly pressed his lips to Paris' forehead. Besides, even if he did wake him up, he wouldn't be able to hide the truth from him. Let him have one more night, he thought.

 

"You should have woken me," said Paris, shortly after he woke Chakotay up with a kiss. 

"It was late," said Chakotay still groggy from all too short a night. "Besides, you looked so peaceful laying there."

"Well then we'll definitely have to make sure that we have tonight because with all of this, I don't want to risk losing another night with you," said Paris, looking very serious. "Especially when nobody knows what's going on."

Chakotay frowned, wanting to put this off but knowing he couldn't. Not in good conscience. "Tom, there's something you should know."

 

Chakotay had no more luck convincing Janeway to turn back to the Demon planet than he had last night. But she was at least looking for a nearby class Y planet. Unfortunately the one they found had a mining operation in progress on it, and refused to let them near them. 

Limping away bruised and bloody, Janeway ordered them to scan for another and set a course.

"And what direction should I go in, Captain?" asked Paris, sounding a bit short, even for him. But they were all feeling the stress.

Janeway didn't even hesitate. "Resume course to the Alpha Quadrant, Lieutenant."

Chakotay almost choked. He followed Janeway into her ready room, ready to stay there all day if that was what it took to convince her. But he barely got his first few arguments off before he suddenly felt horribly ill. He was taken to sickbay, but by that point he knew there wasn't anything the doctor could do for him.

Paris, who'd followed them down pushed past Janeway and grabbed his hand. 

"Sorry, Tom," said Chakotay. "I guess I really should have woken you up last night."

Paris' eyes were shining, and Chakotay knew he was just barely holding back tears. "No," said Paris. "Don't talk like that." He forced a smile. "We have each other now, and we had one great, really amazing night. And it was perfect. So don't go kicking yourself because we didn't have more, when we already had perfection."

"Just why now?" asked Chakotay. "Why not next week? Next year? Why did it have to happen now?"

"You think this would be easier a year from now?" asked Paris, and he was keeping it light, teasing, but Chakotay knew pain in Paris' face when he saw it. "Let me tell you, Chakotay. This would be hell whenever it happened."

"But at least we had a night." Chakotay finished his thought from him. A sudden intense pain shot through his body and Chakotay's breath hitched.

He felt Paris' grip tighten. "Oh God, Chakotay," he reached over and the last thing Chakotay ever felt was the sensation of Tom Paris' hand running down the side of his face.

 

A few days later, another Voyager flew passed, following the distress calls found the other Voyager's remains. And another Janeway stood up and made a report, "We received a distress call at 0900 hours. We arrived at the vessel's last known coordinates at 2120. The ship was destroyed. Cause unknown. No Survivors."

She sat down beside another Chakotay and said, "Paris, set a course for home."

"Yes sir," another Paris answered, putting in the coordinates, and soon the entire incident was forgotten.


	6. A Happy Ending

"Am I good to go?" asked Chakotay, as he finished up putting his uniform back on.

"You're a free man, Commander." answered the Doctor, putting his tools away.

"Any problems?" 

"There's still a couple more tests to analyze, but from what I have see, you're fit as a fiddle."

Chakotay smiled as he stood up. "Well thanks, Doc. See you in six months." And he was out the door.

The first thing Paris did when he walked back in from the other room was glance around. "Is Chakotay gone already?"

"About 20 seconds ago, Mr Paris," answered the Doctor. "You'll have to wait until you see him on the bridge."

Paris frowned looking up from his data. "What does that mean?"

"Please, everytime you see the Commander your face flushes, your pupils dilate and your ears turn an interesting shade of burgandy. Anyone with half a mind to look can see what that means."

"Your reaching a bit, aren't you doc?" asked Paris, with a forced casual air.

But the Doctor didn't rise to the bait, "Whatever you say, Ensign." before continuing with the test restults he was scanning.

 

Paris went straight to his quarters after he was done in the sick bay. Not so much unnerved by the Doctor's comments as frustrated. Even the Doctor was starting to comment on this little crush of his. And how long had he been nursing it now? Six years? Seven? 

He ordered a synthale and laid down across his couch in defeat. It wasn't like him to nurse a crush this long. He usually acted on them or moved on. But there was something about Chakotay, something that felt like it was always just one step away from getting somewhere. And yet? And yet here he was after a long day of shift work alone in his quarters with a synthale. Maybe he needed to decide if twas time to actually do something or if it was time to finally just let it go.

 

"What are doing!?" yelled Boothby after the bell rang and Chakotay fell against the ropes. "You were all over the place out there. What were you trying to accomplish out there?"

"I'm not sure." Said Chakotay between heavy breaths and gulps of water. 

"Well you need to stop dancing around him, and figure out what it is you want. Cause he's not going to let you do that forever."

Chakotay nodded and Boothby nodded. "Alright, then, go get'm!"

 

When Chakotay walked into sickbay, still in his boxing outfit, all he saw was Paris looking over a consol.

"Woah, take a seat," said Paris, grabbing his equipment.

"Where's the Doctor?"

"Out doing something with Seven. Believe it or not, I can handle almost anything people come in here with." sniffed Paris.

"Alright, Tom. Fix me up," said Chakotay taking a seat on a biobed and letting Paris scan him.

"You know, I said that to Seven once, and she turned around and walked right back out." Paris chatted as he took his readings. "I gotta say, though, I kind of agree with the Doc on this one. Why do you play a holoprogram that does this kind of damage? On top of all the bruising, you have a fractured jaw and your rotator cuff is torn. And quite frankly, I'm concerned about the possibility of longterm effects of all the cranial trauma sports like this cause."

"Well if the Doctor is ever worried about leaving you in charge of his sickbay, I can reassure him that you sound just like him when I come in here." Chakogay groused.

"Good," said Paris. "I agree with him." He took Chakotay's face and started knitting his jaw back together and tried to keep his thoughts professional as he worked. Of all the times for Chakotay to walk in sweaty and dressed in a pair of shorts with all those fighting injuries it had to be while he was on duty, he thought.

"Neither of you understand."

Paris moved behind Chakotay to work on his torn rotator cuff. "Then maybe you should explain it to me. Maybe over dinner? In my quarters? With candlelight and wine?"

He couldn't see Chakotay's face, but he did notice his body go tense. Then finally, "Tom, are you asking me out?"

"Yeah," said Paris, finishing off the rotator cuff and coming back over and taking his hand and repairing the bruises there. "I am." He forced himself to meet Chakotay's eyes. But Chakotay wasn't giving away anything.

"I didn't know you felt that way." 

Paris' heart was starting to pound, and he wished Chakotay would give him an answer one way or another. He finished his hand and started healing the bruises on his face. Including the beginning of a nasty looking black eye.

"Yeah, well, I guess the timing just never felt right." 

"Aren't there regulations about hitting on your patients?" asked Chakotay and Paris couldn't tell if he was serious or teasing. 

He took a chance. "I won't tell if you won't."

To his relief Chakotay's face broke into a big grin and he laughed. When they stopped laughing, Paris realised he'd been finished for a few moments already and he still had yet to move away.

He stood up straight and put his tools away. "Well there you are, good as new," he told Chakotay. "Just take it easy with the rotator cuff for a few days."

When he looked back at Chakotay he was giving Paris a contemplative look. "Penny for your thoughts?" Paris asked.

"It was something someone told me today," said Chakotay. "He said, I should figure out what I want, and I should go after it."

"So what do you want?" asked Paris. 

Chakotay grabbed his arm and pulled him down for a kiss. "You." 

And to both of them, it felt right that they had finally gotten around to this. Like it should have happened much sooner, but somehow never did. And oddly enough, despite the fact they'd definitely never done this before it all felt oddly very familiar...


End file.
